by Debbie Young
“Date rape,” said Angelica suddenly. “What’s that date rape drug that makes you forget what happened?”
“I’ve forgotten,” said Billy, deadpan.
A vein in the doctor’s forehead was starting to throb alarmingly. “So now you’re accusing me of being a rapist? My dear girl, have you forgotten? My role is to save people’s lives, not to take them away.” He gazed beseechingly at Billy as the only other man in the room. “Really, Billy, why are we listening to this senseless drivel? These women are clearly deranged by their hysteria. It’ll be the after-effects of the shock.”
The more misogynistic he became, the more my rage and confidence grew, like the companion plants flourishing in my aunt’s garden.
“Yes, that makes perfect sense,” I said. “Some kind of date-rape drug would make her forget seeing you there, so your own marijuana habit would remain a secret between you and Kitty.”
The doctor folded his arms tightly across his chest.
“What nonsense you talk, Sophie. As if I could drug a woman against her will right here in front of Kitty!”
Then I remembered. Unlike Kitty, she hadn’t passed out in the kitchen. Billy had found her slumped in her car.
“No, of course you didn’t. You escorted her to her car, and jabbed something into her there, out of Kitty’s sight.”
I imagined the doctor leaning over her, all smarmy as he saw her into her car, feigning old-fashioned manners for which I was sure Mrs Lot would be a pushover. I imagined him pulling a loaded syringe from the black bag that he still carried everywhere and plunging it into her arm as she reached for her seat belt. Her arms are so plump she might not even have felt the pinprick.
“That’s how come you were so conveniently to hand when Hector came to her rescue. You weren’t there by chance. You weren’t passing by in the street. You were loitering nearby, to check that the injection took effect.”
39 House Call
The doctor tutted as if dismissing an idiot child, but I drew courage from how much his hands were trembling.
“You let her remain in her car, knowing that even when she came round, she’d be incapable of driving properly. Not only did you put her life in danger, but also those of pedestrians and other drivers.”
We all glowered at the doctor in horror. He cleared his throat as he raised his hands in denial.
“Oh please, this is just all too foolish for words. I’m sure if you ask Mrs Lot she’ll agree that nothing of the sort happened.”
“Well, she would say that, wouldn’t she?” said Billy. “That’s why you drugged her so she’d forget what she saw.”
The doctor ignored her. “Here, I’ll even give you her phone number. I’ve got her on my contacts list.”
He fumbled in his pocket for his phone.
“Now there’s a surprise,” said Angelica.
“Except whatever you gave didn’t make her forget. Instead, it gave her the idea of alerting the council that this place wasn’t fit for Bunny’s return. Perhaps her suspicions of drug dealing made them put their visit at the top of their list, which explains why the health inspectors came so quickly after she’d suggested it. Maybe they weren’t health inspectors at all, but plain-clothes police officers. Certainly the van they arrived in was unmarked. Hector and I saw it and we spoke to them.
“You’re talking rot, Sophie, just trying to distract attention from your own role in this sordid affair.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe his nerve.
“Yes, Sophie Sayers, I notice you were among the first on the scene in both cases,” said the doctor quickly. “At Bunny’s accident and at Kitty’s death.”
My heart skipped a beat. “And so were you, as it happens. Except my role was as innocent bystander, whereas you were totally hands on.”
“As a medical professional.”
I leaned forward, surer of my ground now. “A retired medical professional, trying a little too hard to hang on to his authority. ‘Othello, with his occupation gone’, Hector called you.”
“Ha! Hector and his highbrow references,” sneered Dr Perkins. “Talking of which, hadn’t you better get back to his little shop? I’d hate to see Wendlebury missing out on its morning coffee.” He turned to Angelica, waving his hand at me dismissively. “She’s only a waitress, you know. She knows nothing. The only reason she’s been able to solve the odd little mystery in the village in the past is because Hector was behind her, pulling her strings and tipping her off.”
That did it.
“No, I’m not. I’m a trained teacher, and a Sunday School teacher too. I’m every bit as much of a professional as you are. Or were, at least. So kindly stop giving yourself airs and graces as if you’re better than the rest of us.”
“Hear, hear,” said Billy, bolt upright now.
“Yes, stop it right now,” said Angelica.
The doctor gave his biggest sigh yet. “I’m not really retired, you silly girl. I’m just resting. Once a doctor, always a doctor. Because as soon as Paul’s turned this place into a care home, and not a moment before time, I shall be taking up the post of resident doctor. We agreed it in principle a long time ago, didn’t we, Paul?”
He looked around for confirmation, forgetting Paul had gone out to the garden with Stuart.
“As it happens, I’m looking forward to reviving my particular skills with the elderly. It will mean living on site, of course, or at least in the complex that he has planned. He mentioned he was thinking of buying me your aunt’s cottage, Sophie, and he plans to live in Joshua’s. Has he made you an offer yet? Wouldn’t that be amusing, if I ended up living in your house?”
I flushed but refused to rise to the bait.
“Still, I’m sure you’d cope. As far as I can see, you spend most nights shacked up with Hector above the bookshop, and doubtless he’d welcome an injection of cash from your house sale into his pathetic little business. That’s probably what he sees in you. After all, May Sayers did fund his start-up costs when he opened the bookshop a few years ago. You do realise that’s why he latched on to you so quickly when you moved into the village, don’t you? I saw the pound signs in his eyes, even if you didn’t. He’s probably thinking he won’t even have to pay you a wage once you move in with him.”
“Right, that’s it.” I grabbed a jug of water from the draining board and threw it straight at his contorted face. He gritted his teeth in a fixed smile, as if it might give him the moral high ground.
Angelica got to her feet and leaned forward, her hands on the table. “I’ve met a lot of medics in my career, and I have to say you have the worst communication skills I’ve ever come across. You’re nothing but a bully. How dare you talk to Sophie like that, when all she’s done is help Stuart’s mother and sister? Now you’re trying to bludgeon her into submission. Is that how you treat all your patients?”
The doctor clenched his fists. “Bludgeoning? Whatever do you mean? Doctors don’t bludgeon.”
I paled, picturing the hammer in his hand.
“No,” I said slowly. “Doctors operate with precision. Which is how you were able to kill poor Kitty with a single blow to the head. With surgical precision indeed.”
Dr Perkins slumped down into a chair as suddenly as if I’d given him a hard slap. “I’m not the only medic in the village. What on earth makes you think it was me?”
But I was on a roll now, incensed by the picture that was forming in my head, thanks to Angelica’s prompt.
“Oh, it’s all falling neatly into place now. I don’t actually believe you meant to kill Bunny. Poor Bunny, she trusted you, and when you visited her first thing early last Saturday morning, she never suspected that you were about to drug her, just as you did Petunia Lot. When you trundled Bunny up to the churchyard in her wheelchair in fancy dress and dumped her there, before the rest of the village was awake, you thought she wouldn’t remember seeing you. But she did.”
Beads of sweat began to break out on his forehead.
“When
Hector and I questioned Bunny about who had visited her that morning, and she said you had, we assumed she was confused, thinking of you at the graveside after her fall. But that was the second time she had seen you that day. The only other witness to the first visit was Kitty. When you let yourself in at the front door, she was already up, having an early morning cup of tea.”
The doctor’s body was rigid, as if he was trying to prevent himself from showing any reactions.
“I assume you slipped a strong sedative into Kitty’s tea as she sat at the kitchen table. That would be easy enough to do. I’ve seen her put washing up liquid in her tea before now without noticing it. With her out for the count, you’d be free to dope Bunny and wheel her away unhindered. It was early enough on a Saturday morning for you to assume no-one else would be up and about on the High Street to catch you in the act – but if, say, a dog-walker or the milkman happened to notice you, what could look more innocent than a newly retired doctor giving back to his community by taking a lonely old lady out for a stroll? And what could be more natural than her to be dozing contentedly?”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Kitty was still out for the count when Billy went to fetch her as you tended to Bunny in the grave, as you knew she would be. But I don’t think you really wanted to kill Bunny. You just wanted to implicate Kitty as an incompetent carer, and so force Paul’s hand to turn the Manor House into a care home sooner rather than later, so that you could get your dream job. For goodness’ sake, why couldn’t you just retire and take up golf or something?”
The doctor shuddered.
“You wanted people to suspect Billy’s motives, too, stuffing those empty sleeping pill packets into the pockets of his gardening jacket, as if he’d been the one to sedate them both, if anyone became suspicious afterwards. I bet it was you who then tipped off the police with that ridiculous report of Billy breaking and entering her house, so they’d search his pockets and find the empty drug pockets. It’s all falling into place now.”
Everyone but the doctor nodded.
“But how on earth would anyone persuade an old lady to down a whole packet of sleeping pills in one go, especially Billy? Bunny may be frail, but her mind is razor sharp.”
Billy wiped his face with a grubby handkerchief, clearly relieved to find himself so vindicated
When the doctor did not respond, I thought I’d made a hideous mistake. For publicly slandering a respected pillar of the local community, I’d probably have to pack my bags and leave the village forthwith. With his self-righteous attitude, he’d be after me with a law suit.
When a loud cough came from the direction of the utility room, it became clear that Paul and Stuart had been listening to all the doctor had to say, just out of sight behind the door. Now they came to stand in the doorway, Paul’s hand on Stuart’s shoulder for support.
“Perkins, if your conscience is clear, you’ll have nothing to worry about,” said Paul slowly. “The police will check the hammer for evidence. If your DNA’s not on it, you are off the hook.”
When Dr Perkins pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket to mop his brow, a tell-tale pair of plastic surgical gloves came out with it. Before the doctor could bend down to pick them up, I leapt across to stamp on them with my foot and pin them to the floor. He stepped back, startled.
“That’s one way to avoid leaving fingerprints,” said Paul. He went across to the dresser drawer, pulled out a roll of clear plastic sandwich bags, and put one over each hand like gloves. He bent down to use them to pick up the surgical gloves, which he enveloped in a third bag, knotting the top before slipping it into his own pocket.
“Alternatively, the police might find traces of the hammer’s rubber handle on your gloves, doctor.”
The doctor shivered, although the room was warm. He looked at each of us in turn. “Surely you don’t believe the ridiculous product of this stupid girl’s over-active imagination? She clearly spends far too much time reading novels.”
“The whole thing does sound ridiculous, I admit,” I replied. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. After all, this is Wendlebury Barrow.”
40 Banged to Rights
The doctor turned pleading eyes on Paul.
“Surely this whole charade just reinforces your conviction that the sooner you turn this into a proper care home, the better?” His tone was wheedling. “Especially now your poor mother won’t have Kitty to care for her. It’s time to get the professionals in, rather than put her at the mercy of these meddling neighbours. The police will obviously know better and will immediately pursue whoever was the last possessor of the hammer.”
When Paul nodded thoughtfully, the doctor must have thought he had won.
“I’m available now, you know,” he said. “I can come and start work for you as soon as you like.”
I put my hand to my mouth in shock. There was one detail I’d forgotten. “It was a Brady Homes hammer,” I said slowly. “Billy said it had the Brady Homes logo on it.”
“What?” said Paul. “How did that get there?”
The doctor avoided Paul’s stare, slumping down in his seat as if trying to make himself inconspicuous.
Billy put his hand up. “It’s a fair cop. I borrowed the hammer from The Bluebird last night, and it’s something I shall regret for the rest of my days. I was going to return it, honest, just as soon as I’d fixed that dodgy front door. I left it lying on the kitchen table when I came in to remind me to do it this morning. Your men wouldn’t even have missed the hammer, Paul, as I was going to put it back by Monday morning.” He held out his wrists. “When they finally get here, the coppers can arrest me if they like, but I confess, what with Paul throwing his money about at the bar last night, I didn’t think he’d go bust for the loss of a hammer.”
I patted Billy on the shoulder to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Billy, no-one’s going to arrest you. But I think there’s now no shadow of a doubt as to the identity of the real murderer.”
I turned to the doctor.
“So that’s why you instructed us not to call the police when we found Bunny in the grave, and Mrs Lot passed out in her car. You were worried they might realise what you were up to. And you almost got away with it, because we trusted you as our local GP – a true professional – when all you cared about was yourself and your own foolish ego.”
The doctor whimpered like an injured dog.
“And why on earth did you dress Mother up in those ridiculous clothes?” asked Paul, running his fingers through his hair. “That fur coat and those bunny ears?”
“To implicate Stuart,” I said. “Bunny had recently given Stuart her old fur coat. Kitty told me she thought he’d sell it and keep the money, as he was always short of cash.”
“Well, Kitty was wrong,” said Stuart. “I gave it to my wife as a peace offering after our last big bust-up, once I’d got it dry-cleaned, of course.”
I swept on.
“The doctor knew Stuart had spotted his attempt to derail Kitty with the sedatives she’d been addicted to before and would therefore never have stood for his involvement in the care home. So he tried to frame Stuart as Bunny’s assailant to make him fall from grace with her. He knew Bunny had been easily alienated from her other children. With Stuart and Kitty out of the picture, that would clear the way for Paul’s plan for the care home – and, critically, for his new job as resident doctor.”
“But you never gave me a fur coat,” piped up Angelica, with a puzzled frown. “Nor bunny ears. And we’ve never had a big bust-up.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” said Stuart, going to stand behind her and gently massaging her shoulders. “I took the fur coat into the dry cleaner’s a few weeks ago. When I went back to collect it, the assistant made a grovelling apology. She said they’d had a work experience girl on the counter that week, and when someone giving my name told her they’d lost the ticket, she let him have it, as he was happy to pay the bill.” He turned to Dr Perkins. “I don’t think you ne
ed me to tell you who that customer was, do you, doctor? I remember now, you were behind me in the queue when I dropped it off, which is how you knew it was there. And that’s what gave you the idea of blaming me for Mother’s abduction. You didn’t just want to suggest Kitty was an unfit carer. You wanted to alienate Paul and Bunny from us both.”
The doctor turned to me and sneered. “Oh, Sophie, didn’t you notice the dry-cleaning label with Stuart’s name on it, pinned to the sleeve of the coat for the world to see? Not such a great sleuth after all, are you? I feel you’ve rather let me down, failing to detect the most obvious clue.”
“Well, it didn’t take me long to trace where you got the bunny ears from.” My voice rose in anger as I remembered Jemima’s sorrow at her loss. “How on earth could you implicate an innocent little girl, you brute?”
The doctor looked surprised. “You mean the child who left her ears lying about so carelessly? Oh, they were just a bit of fun. I found them on the pavement on my way to the churchyard and popped them on Bunny’s head. I neither knew nor cared who had dropped them. The connection with her nickname made me smile.”
He was the only one smiling now.
Angelica shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why, when you have all the skills and knowledge of a medical professional at your fingertips, would you go to so much trouble to set up such a contrived and unlikely assault?”
The doctor glared at her as if she were the stupid one. “Because a medical professional would be the last person one would suspect of such a frivolous attack. And it was the sort of thing that a lunatic like Kitty might do, in league with Stuart. He’s so easily led.” He let out a snort of laughter. “I’m no fool.”
And with that remark, the last piece of the jigsaw fell into place for me.
“Whereas a hammer inflicting just the right wound to kill a person at a single blow is the mark of a rank amateur? I suggest when your warped plan to oust Bunny, Kitty and Stuart from the Manor House didn’t work, you fell back on a more surgical solution. I’d say you’ve made rather a hash of it.”